


I'm Glad You Came (to Earth)

by IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore



Series: Cultural (Mis)Understandings [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: First Contact, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Anal, Canon Compliant(y’all they really kissed), Cuddling, M/M, Minor Differences in Anatomy, Pining for Doing a Mind Meld, Riding, Spooning, That wild son of a gun Zef really kissed his hand all over that Vulcan, Vulcan Biology(you mean.. the biology of vulcans?), Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Makeout Sessions, it started out with an ozh'esta how did it end up like this it was only an ozh'esta, ozh'esta, this fic explores how that handshake really did create a lifelong bond, t’hy’la but they don’t even know it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 08:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore/pseuds/IHidMyFaceFromYouNoMore
Summary: After Earth experiences first contact with aliens, that alien - sorry, Vulcan, - talks to Zefram about his own experience.Zefram learns a lot about Vulcan etiquette through means he could never have anticipated.





	I'm Glad You Came (to Earth)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload from my old account that I have deleted. The work upload was originally on July 13, 2018, and I have left it untouched so it is exactly as it was.

Zefram had a thousand and ten thoughts scurrying about his mind after that night’s events. Most of it was an unbelievable blur lost in the initial thrill of having seen and spoken to aliens. It just felt unreal. Especially the part where the aliens had turned out to be decent guys and gals. Polite, non-hostile, maybe a little reserved, but that’s understandable given the circumstances. Probably the best possible outcome for first contact. 

 

Excluding the fact Zefram had later learned, that his little handshake with that first alien he saw, _that_ was not as … polite as he would have hoped. Embarrassed, he could not stop replaying the guilty memory in his mind.

 

Because at the afterparty, that same alien guy had approached him - what was his name? Solkar. Definitely Solkar, Zefram luckily remembered despite having to suddenly remember so much that had happened in the span of a few hours. 

That Solkar had gone up to Zefram and made conversation with him like it was the most natural thing in the universe. And he happened to mention, after Zefram had apologized for his palm having been sweaty from nervousness at the moment of the handshake, that said greeting had a very different meaning in their culture - Vulcan culture. 

 

Solkar’s voice had gone real quiet, almost like he was just as abashed as Zefram, when he had told him this: 

“For a Vulcan, a touch of the hand is an intimate act. You could call it a greeting, but not one between strangers. It is not unlike an Earth kiss, if one’s fingertips were to touch another’s.” Solkar demonstrated with his own two hands briefly, putting four fingers, all the pointer- and middle-fingers, together to signify a kiss. 

 

The gentle kiss of fingers was nothing compared to Zefram’s lingering handshake from before. So Zefram must have looked mortified when he had it all explained for him. Mortified only because of the reality that he had made out Vulcan style with the first alien Earth had ever met. The fact that he wasn’t being executed or at least told off by that Solkar guy and his friends was incredible.

A pathetic-looking Zefram had been about to sputter an apology, when he had remembered something. Wide-eyed with puzzlement, he had said: “Why’d you take my hand then?”

 

It was already obvious that these aliens were not ones for showing the emotions coming from the inside. But before replying, Solkar had hesitated, swallowed and averted his self-conscious gaze for a second, which had told Zefram everything. 

“We have studied your human customs for a while now, so I was prepared for any welcoming gesture you might have used on me. I was also the only person on the board who was willing to make this type of physical contact, due to my colleagues seeing the gesture as precarious. Although I found that the risk was much smaller than the great reward. Especially now that it turns out you are rather talented with your hands.”

 

Zefram must have had a beet-red face. Solkar had been staring, his dark eyes went from Zefram’s to Zefram’s hands. And Zefram had laughed nervously. First contact was so fucking different from what he had dreamed about. 

The dream usually didn’t involve flirting with the aliens. Usually.

 

“I am - uh, well, I am just glad you were not offended by my … by me kissing you without knowing.” Zefram had stupidly replied, masking his shocked expression with a sip of his drink. 

“Quite the contrary, Zefram Cochrane.” Solkar had been subtly fidgeting with his hands, his fingers intertwined. “I would not mind at all if you were to demonstrate that again on me at some point.”

 

Zefram had not been sure if he had heard or understood it right. Was the first alien he had ever met seriously asking him to get it on, alien-style, with him? This had been the worst time for Zefram’s palms to go sweaty again. He had to wipe them as discreetly as he could on his pant-leg.

 

The best part: Zefram was definitely sweating out of nervous arousal then. His mind had been telling him it wouldn’t be such a shabby idea to get to know these Vulcans a little better. Why not do that by getting a little more… intimately acquainted?

 

His drier hand had reached out to hover above Solkar’s bundle of fingers. The Vulcan had looked at him, then unclasped his own hands from each other in order to take Zefram’s.

Zefram had decided to just let his fingers drag down Solkar’s open palm. Vulcan skin was surprisingly alike human, maybe slightly cooler in temperature. He had found them pleasant, their likenesses as well as differences. 

At that moment, a huge part of him had really wanted to reach out and touch those pointy ears, like it was a primal urge telling him to explore everything unfamiliar he came close to. 

 

Solkar looked to be enjoying it, his eyes darted from Zefram’s to their hands. He had his mouth slightly slack, his breathing ever so slightly faster, which Zefram had read as a quite human response to being touched in a sensual way. And Zefram could have sworn that his Vulcan companion’s cheeks and ears had gotten tinted with a green hue, although it was hard to see in the scarce light.

 

Zefram didn’t want to admit that he had no idea what he was doing, if what he was doing was right, so long as Solkar was interested still. His fingers drifted toward the wrist, the skin on there the being the softest on any humanoid body. There was a pulse, although Zefram didn’t register it as such at first. It was so fast, it almost felt like a rough, slow vibration more than a pulse.

 

“Is that your heart’s pulse?” Zefram asked quietly, it had been silent between them for a while by then.

“It is. The Vulcan heart beats at an average of 250 beats per minute when in a resting state.”

“It’s so fast.” 

“It is faster now than normal. Obviously due to your … actions.”

 

Zefram tried to keep his cool, but an alien had just told him that the horniness was mutual. That had given him confidence.

“Solkar - now that I know how your people kiss, I wanted to ask; do you know how my people kiss?” He had asked.

 

“I believe you have a touching of the lips, with varying degrees of intensity.” Solkar had logically put. Although all veneer of scientific dryness had been stripped away with his follow-up question: “Would you care to demonstrate on me?”

 

Zefram only had a moment to worry about his skills or his alcoholic breath or his badly-timed stubble, before he realised that he would be kissing someone who had never been kissed before and therefore had no reference level. That took the edge off.

“There are infinite ways humans kiss, but, uh, I prefer to - “ Zefram had raised his free hand up to Solkar’s hairline, letting his fingers spread in the Vulcan’s black hair. He had very nearly made his wish of touching a pointed ear come true, but he thought he’d best ask before doing that, just so we wouldn’t accidentally grope a potentially erogenous zone - again.

 

Zefram had slowly leaned in to position himself on Solkar’s lips, brushing them against his just before he properly kissed him. His lips had been just as soft as they had looked, and cool compared to Zefram's. 

He had decided not to linger too long, in case the Vulcan found it unpleasant, so Zefram had pulled away, removed his hand from the soft, black hair he had felt, and looked for a response.

 

Solkar had looked into Zefram’s eyes, speechless for a second. Their faces were still so close, all Solkar had to do was whisper. “Would you like to mate with me?”

Zefram had to do everything in his power to keep his eyebrows from shooting up. Yes, he had heard that right. And, yes, he was … strongly considering it. 

 

And now, Zefram was being led by Solkar to the Vulcan ship.

 

The main hall inside of it was abandoned, it seemed Solkar’s companions had retired for the night. ‘ _Unless they’re out partying, it ain’t impossible to think that, I mean, I’m not not one to judge_ ,’ Zefram thought.

Under the ship’s lighting, Solkar did indeed look light green, as Zefram thought he had noticed before. After Solkar put in a code by a doorway, an opening slid into view and they could enter a private room.

 

Zefram drank in the interior, best described with one word: sleek. You could have gotten that just from looking at the exterior. Sleek and spartan in its clutter-less elegance. It was furnished with items that Zefram registered as rather human-like: something in the corner looked like a desk, something else looked like a lamp. He was both surprised and unsurprised that the humanoids were decorating human-like.

 

The small cabin was remarkably warmer than the entryway. Zefram decided to remove his cap and fold his coat to lay on a nearby chair-looking piece of furniture. Solkar copied, letting his dark cloak slide to the floor, before he gingerly sat himself down on a bed-looking piece of furniture, then waited patiently until Zefram took the hint and joined him by his side. It was so quiet now that he wasn’t stepping around. No-one from the outside could be heard either. Zefram found it very practical, peacemaking.

 

“Would’y mind if I kicked my boots off?” Zefram didn’t know what to do with his hands when speaking, he resorted to wiping the sparse hair on his own head with one.

 

Solkar didn’t say a word, he merely lifted a leg slightly up in the air and used the tip of his boot to slide his own right boot off, letting it fall carelessly to the ground. He looked at Zefram, who laughed briefly at the gesture, which Solkar also attempted to copy. It was a restrained smile with a huff of air for a laugh, but still a laugh. He watched Zefram remove his shoes while kicking off his last boot.

 

Solkar didn’t say anything as he reached a hand out to touch at a button on Zefram’s shirt. Zefram could tell his eyes were studying it like it was an object he had only seen from afar and never experienced in real life before. Bizarre that Vulcans don’t have buttons, Zefram noted. He knew what to say.

“Go ahead.”

 

And with that, Solkar unfastened the first of many buttons, the rest went naturally. And then the cloth tied around Zefram’s neck was loosened and removed, and before long, his pants had been tugged off of him, all articles dropped to the side. All while Solkar remained silent, concentrated, learning. And all while Zefram couldn’t stop thinking about doing the same to him afterwards.

 

And once Zefram was down to only his underwear, he curled a hand around the back of Solkar’s neck, feeling around the collar for a zipper or a tie. With help from its wearer, a concealed opening was found, letting Zefram part the silvery dress from Solkar’s back so that it could join the pile. Underneath were a thin, cotton-y pair of black pants that Zefram pulled off of him carefully.

 

What was left was an undergarment not unlike something that could have come from modern Earth fashion. But Zefram was more distracted by the thought that he was really seeing an _alien_ \- No, a _Vulcan_ , - in all his handsome, bare figure. 

 

On Solkar’s chest was an even, sparse coat of hair, as black and silky-looking as that on his head. Zefram dared to reach out to drag his fingers across that chest, surprised that it really was like the rest of Solkar’s hair; silk-like and smooth, contrary to human body-hair. 

 

Solkar smiled somewhat then reached out to make the gesture mutual. He found that Zefram’s chest hairs were a more curly, bristly sort, but just as sun-blonde as the hair on his head and arms. 

 

With the two of them examining each other’s torsos in close proximity, both soon looked at the other, smiling at the wonder they saw on their faces, and Solkar found it natural to move in on Zefram and kiss him again. 

 

His hands went from a blonde bosom to a strong, worn back that Solkar’s hands held onto, making it so that he pressed himself entirely against Zefram. He parted his legs in order to let Zefram in closer, which he did happily, so that they now could descend down on the narrow bed and lie together, one on top of the other.

 

_‘A surprisingly talented kisser given he allegedly hasn’t kissed anything before,’_ a thought passed through Zefram’s mind, making him giggle briefly. Then another thought passed through Zefram’s mind which made him halt and look down at his partner as they parted again. The silence was thick as Zefram struggled to find the right words.

 

“What gives you pause?” Solkar breathily asked.

Zefram began with a very long ‘uh,’ before he could spit it out. “It’s just - a thought crossed my mind. When you - your people, when they were observing humans and their ways, did you - uh, did you also learn how we - mate?”

“Of course we did. It was vital to our research.” Solkar began, leaving out the fact that the vitality of the knowledge would probably only come in handy in situations like these. So it was a good thing he had studied his material closely. “If you will oblige, I would like to have you - inside me.”

 

Zefram looked relieved, but mostly excited. “I would be so honored.” 

He went down to kiss Solkar again, and again and again, until he began to migrate his kisses to new territories, down Solkar’s jaw, his neck, trying to feel what worked on him. It seemed that it all did, as he breathed heavier than ever by the time Zefram had reached the spot where the muscle of the neck meets the collarbone.

 

Zefram would be lying if he said he hadn’t been at least leaning on becoming hard ever since Solkar had whispered to him if he wanted to fuck. So by now, Zefram was straining near-painfully against his black boxer briefs, all helped by his direct contact with Solkar’s own erect, garment-clad cock, rubbing against him. Well, cock and cock, Zefram couldn’t assume that the hard elongated shape in Solkar’s crotch was a cock as he knew it. There was only one way to find out.

 

He reached down to finally remove those barriers of theirs, starting with his own before tugging at Solkar’s. _‘I’m going to see Vulcan junk. No, wait, I’m the first human to see Vulcan junk. What the fuck.’_ Zefram’s invasive thoughts yelled in his mind.

 

And underneath that fabric was a sight to behold. Zefram’s jaw couldn’t help but drop. Vulcan junk - No, Solkar’s cock, unique as it was, was as light green as the rest of him, and like a human’s, darker in color closest to the head. And other than that, it was ridged beautifully all along the shaft and looked to be covered in a film of something wet.

 

Zefram’s eyes travelled further south past testicular mounds to see a familiar shape, a ring of muscle that resembled its counterpart from human anatomy. Although, like Solkar’s cock, it too was coated with a shiny substance that Zefram was drawn to, wanting to reach in and examine what it was.

 

Solkar could tell from the silence and the gaping of Zefram’s mouth that the gears were grinding in his head. 

“Unlike humans, Vulcans possess an anatomical quality that is self-lubrication even for males. Please - touch me if you want to.”

 

Zefram placed his jaw back in his mouth. He slid a finger from Solkar’s tip to his opening way below, concluding that it was indeed a slippery substance he was left with on his digit. God, Zefram was painfully hard. But he couldn’t help but take a hold of Solkar’s member and feel the slickness of it all as he began to pump him. 

 

“Do you like this?”

Solkar strained not to immediately moan. “I do. Please - Zefram, please enter me now.” 

 

Zefram did not hesitate to oblige, although he had expected to do more foreplay on Solkar, the head of his cock quickly aligned with the ribbed entrance. It was strange to not have to go find lube, but absolutely a blessing that Vulcans had evolved to be like this. Zefram could tell it was unlike any earthly oil he knew when he slid inside slowly.

 

God, it was tight. But flexible, thank goodness, Zefram gripped Solkar’s upper thighs to steady himself before sliding out a bit in order to thrust back in. Soon, he had worked himself down to the hilt, savoring the moment before moving again. 

 

Solkar was breathing deeper still, looking into Zefram’s eyes when he had the chance to make contact. His hands found their place back on Zefram’s shoulder-blades, pulling him closer that way. Zefram’s proximity and still slow thrusts meant that his abdomen was rubbing delightfully against Solkar’s wet cock. 

 

Solkar already knew he wouldn’t last long that way. It was now that the bond was strongest, making him feel Zefram’s own great pleasure from fucking him at an increasing speed, the sensations were hard to suppress even though he didn’t want to climax just yet. He centered himself, staving off the pressure for now even though he was easily distracted by the wild blue eyes above him. 

 

Zefram was not holding back verbally as he now thrusted at a high speed. It mostly became whimpers and mumbles of approval. He carded his fingers through Solkar’s hair, he wanted to kiss him so badly.

Solkar was fighting the strong Vulcan urge in him to reach a few centimeters in the right direction, to touch his fingers to Zefram’s psi points and unite them in a proper meld, but it wouldn’t be right, not without Zefram’s uninfluenced consent that he couldn’t very well give while intoxicated with pleasure. So he too settled for running his hand over Zefram’s scalp, letting the bristly hairs ground him before he was kissed hungrily by Zefram. Open-mouthed and wet, so very wet inside, the kiss nearly felt like a meld. 

 

And it was enough to drive Zefram and then Solkar over the edge, with Zefram coming inside without warning, followed by Solkar feeding off of his orgasm, triggering his own. His cock, still confined between his own abdomen and Zefram’s, spurted a climax of a lightly blue substance in their middle. He could feel Zefram’s cock twitch with orgasmic spasms inside him which surprised and thrilled Solkar.

 

Although both were wet with several bodily fluids, they failed to remove themselves from one another. Zefram’s entire body slumped, he let his head fall into the nook of Solkar’s neck as the two steadied their loud breathing. 

 

Zefram almost forgot himself and his manners. He lifted himself up a bit on his elbows to look at Solkar. “Sorry, am I crushing you right now?”

“If by ‘crushing’, you mean that your bodyweight is an inconvenience to me, then no. I am very durable. And I also enjoy it.” 

 

Solkar also nearly forgot his manners, as he remembered them with a widening of his eyes. “Would you like to clean yourself? I have hygienic wipes within reach.”

Zefram did a nod and a ‘Sure,’ and let Solkar stretch out over the edge of the bed, feeling his way to a box underneath the cot from which he pulled towel-like cloths, one for Zefram and one for himself. 

 

After cautiously pulling himself out, Zefram found that towel to be very efficient, erasing all trace of grime and sweat in seconds, leaving a fresh, dry surface. And he sure could use a wash, so this had been a helpful substitute.

Both discarded their cloths to the side, then returned to their previous engagement of Zefram lying heavily and flat on Solkar, covering him like a live blanket. He could fall asleep right on the spot there, warm, content, the remnants of his orgasm still coursing through his system.

 

Despite how nice it felt to lay there, Zefram’s mind worried that he was overstaying his welcome.  “I think I oughta get back to my own cot. Should get some sleep and it wouldn’t be fair to doze off on you.” He chuckled, then got up, eyeing the pile on the floor for his clothes.

“You may stay here if you wish to sleep. I will gladly offer this bed to you for that purpose.” Solkar neutrally replied.

“That’s very kind of you… Though I have to decline. I can’t very well hog your bed. Where’ll you sleep?”

“Vulcans do not require much sleep. And if sleep is impossible to attain, we have a form of meditation that make restitution for it. I might work quietly by my station while you sleep here. Or - “ Solkar hesitated emptily for just a second, “if you would like it, I could sleep by you. We observed that humans tend to prefer sleeping close to someone they trust. Do _you_ prefer that custom?”

 

Zefram knew his gut was telling him to stay. He sure hadn’t cuddled anyone for a good while, due to all kinds of reasons. And here, Solkar was offering it freely. The bit about sleeping next to someone you trust sure was true. Zefram’s gut also told him that.

“If you really don’t mind my snoring and hearing me mumble in my sleep for the remainder of the night - then I would like to.” Zefram offered a smile that was returned as an echo on Solkar’s face.

 

Zefram climbed back in, positioning himself with his back against the wall, trying to create as much space for them equally on the single person cot as possible. There wasn’t any need to pull the covers over them given how hot it had become in the tiny room. Solkar turned off the already dim lights.

 

It wasn’t entirely clear to Zefram if Solkar wanted to spoon with him, as he had only said ‘sleeping close to someone’. Solkar was already lying on his side with his pale back to Zefram. Best to ask. “Do you know what spooning is, Solkar?”

 

“I believe it is Earth slang for - “ Solkar apparently didn’t know what words to use so he instead demonstrated, scooting himself backwards so that he laid flush against Zefram’s entire front. Zefram breathed a laugh, then slung his arm around Solkar while snaking his other underneath him. “Yeah, like that. What do you think about it?”

 

Solkar definitely felt relaxed. In any other context he would be in distress over essentially being held capture. This was no such situation. He did trust Zefram because logic dictated that he could trust someone who showed themselves so genuinely to him through their first contact. And although human sweat glands proved an interesting sensation both for touch and smell, Solkar was content in those arms that he knew would protect him. He could feel the infinitely slow rhythm of Zefram’s heart beating softly against his spine. “I am satisfied with this situation.”

 

“Good.” Zefram smiled against the skin of Solkar’s neck before pressing a kiss to it. 

 

What an odd day. Odd and infinitely wonderful. To come in contact with a stranger, one who proved again and again to be compatible with you, that was infinitely wonderful. Zefram couldn’t explain the immediate feeling of reassurance that had washed over him, that probably started right from the moment he and Solkar took each other’s hand, the feeling that had continually washed over him like waves in perpetual motion coursing through him. 

 

Zefram felt it like a gut instinct, that even though he didn’t know a thing about Solkar, he wanted to know everything and more. The personal details, the road Solkar took to get to him, the ancestry of all of Vulcan - information that fed more information. 

 

If he hadn’t been so tired, he would have talked to Solkar all night. But his damned human body wanted to slump like a piece of clay against Solkar’s form and sleep in silence. And his body won over his mind.

 

\- - -

 

Zefram awoke feeling near-feverishly warm and boneless. It took him a few blinks to reboot his brain until he discovered that through the night, him and Solkar had moved around quite a bit. Zefram was on his back, his entire body stretched flat, and Solkar was now acting as the live blanket, draped over Zefram so that his face was buried in the nook of Zefram’s neck and the rest of him aligned almost perfectly with the body underneath him. 

 

Solkar had a hand curled on Zefram’s chest, the other was lying by his side, while Zefram had instinctively held onto Solkar’s smooth back in his sleep. Further down, Zefram’s cock was erect from his slumber. He could feel that because it stood at attention, it was leaning on Solkar’s rear, not making it easier to calm it down. Solkar was definitely hard too and pressed against Zefram’s abdomen, slick with his natural oils like the night before.

 

Zefram had no idea if Solkar was awake or not. Judging by his slow breathing and unresponsive state, he would say that he was likely in deep sleep still. It wasn’t as if he knew what a sleeping Vulcan looked like, as he had fallen asleep first the night before. And he recalled Solkar having said something about Vulcans not requiring much sleep normally, so - Zefram let it slide. He instead glanced around the room for something to look at.

 

It was impossible to tell what time it was, no windows to the outside, no wall clocks. All there was, was a lamp that resembled an artificial sun which glowed like a sunrise. Zefram concluded that it was one of those lamps people in window-less spaces use to wake up with the natural light that is synced with the real sun. It meant that Zefram could at least see Solkar’s lit up form again: His sleek, greenish body that looked like it didn’t have a single birth mark on it. He traced a shoulder-blade with his fingers. 

 

Zefram remembered something from last night. When he had felt up Solkar’s chest, focusing on his hairs, he had noticed, but briefly forgotten, that he felt no heartbeat from there. At least not a heartbeat that was as pronounced as he knew a Vulcan pulse to be, as he learned when he had caressed Solkar’s wrist earlier. 

Was the heart elsewhere? He decided to explore, feeling his way from the shoulder-blade to a high rib, getting closer to something beating strong inside that body. Right in Solkar’s side, that’s where it was strongest. How fascinating, Zefram thought.

 

Just then, a head of mussed black hair lifted from its alcove and blinked dark eyes at Zefram. Solkar raised an arm to properly prop himself up on his elbow.

“Good morning.” Zefram smiled.

“Good morning.” Solkar echoed. 

“Is your heart in the side of your torso?” Zefram asked.

Solkar pressed his own hand onto the one Zefram had placed in his side, adjusting him just a centimeter or two. “It is located right here. A significant difference in our anatomies.”

 

Zefram thoughtfully hummed. His hand felt like it was stroking a hummingbird’s active wings or something. He took in the pleasant vibration of Solkar’s Vulcan heart. When he looked up at Solkar again, he was then reminded of another inquiry from yesterday he had forgotten. 

“I was wondering,” He lifted a finger to Solkar’s face, circling it around the area surrounding one of his ears, “your ears - can I feel them? Or would it be over the line?”

“You may touch them if you will be gentle. Many nerve endings ebb out in a Vulcan’s ears.” Solkar answered.

And so, Zefram fulfilled his wish and lightly traced from Solkar’s cheekbone to the tip of that ear, descending toward an earlobe and around again. It was unsurprisingly velvety and easily blushed with green at his touch.

Solkar saw his opportunity to also explore foreign anatomy, so he fixated on one of Zefram’s ears and felt around its shell. “You have rather large ears. Quite round for a human.”

For a second, Zefram could not believe he had just been told by a Vulcan that his ears were abnormal. “Pretty ballsy of you to say that, buddy.” He chuckled.

Solkar looked as if he was trying to work out what in the universe ‘ballsy’ could mean. That only made Zefram’s laugh grow, resulting in his chest bouncing Solkar up and down. Solkar seemed to find that funny too, in his own subtly expressed way. 

 

Zefram was then suddenly reminded that they were both still bare, still lying flush with their warm bodies. His own erection had not subsided, and Solkar’s didn’t seem to have either. And with their faces so close to each other, it was the easiest thing in the world to reach up to kiss him. Solkar pressed back, intensifying the touch of their lips. He instinctively ground his hips to Zefram’s. He, too, seemed to want more than a kiss.

 

“Would you like to mate again?” Solkar spoke softly.

“Oh, yes.” Zefram grinned before kissing him again. 

 

Solkar lifted himself up just enough to reach down and take a hold of Zefram’s cock. With no further play, he guided it to his slick entrance and let himself sink down, eliciting a drawn out whimper from Zefram. 

Solkar sat upright, his weight resting on his bent knees that he had on either side of Zefram. He steadied himself, with help from Zefram’s hands that had quickly shot up to grasp Solkar’s hips. By his own movement, he went up and down on Zefram, smiling at the expression of abrupt ecstasy on the face he saw below him.  Solkar reached down to stroke his own erection in tune with his bouncing, getting his fingers all wet from running along all of his lubricated ridges.

 

Because of their position, a kiss was currently out of the realm of possibilities. But Zefram decided that if they couldn’t make out human-style, they always could do it Vulcan-style; so his fingers went to caress the back of Solkar’s idle hand.

Inside Solkar, sparks crept all along his katra at the contact with Zefram. Once again, his hands wanted to extend out to grasp hungrily at Zefram’s face and take him in, unite him with his starving katra, make them one like they should be. He still knew better than to overstep there, so it was a good thing that Zefram kept his unoccupied hand in check with his kisses and that his other hand was more busy sliding up and down his own cock.

It didn’t take long before Zefram longed to move, to thrust his hips upward and take control himself. He managed to get Solkar to lift up just enough for that to happen, and so Zefram pushed his hips off the mattress and into Solkar at a higher speed than before. 

It was a sudden enough move that it flooded Solkar with shocking arousal, making him come. And as Zefram thrusted through his orgasm, he too reached a loud climax.

 

Zefram’s hips dropped down with Solkar on them, their bodies went slack. Solkar lifted himself off, using his last energy on procuring two fresh towels from beneath them. Zefram gladly cleaned the shine off his forehead and chest, then the light blue cum from Solkar that had made it all over his abdomen. 

 

After throwing his rag to nowhere in particular, Solkar dropped back down to lay by Zefram. Shoulder to shoulder, it was silent in the small room with the exception of their heavy breathing that slowly quieted down as they came down from their high.

There was a small part of Zefram that wanted to ask what time of the day it was. It was counteracted by a slightly larger part of him that wanted to live in a timeless state where colleagues and governments didn’t rely on him to be present at certain times. Because the biggest part of him just wanted to lay there. 

Solkar felt that despite that he now twice had come down from his aroused state, after each time he still desired to meld with Zefram. He knew it was far too soon. But he had known that he wanted to be merged from the first time they touched. He would replay the memory over and over in his mind, but there was no doubt.

 

\- - -

 

Solkar had been repressing a smile since the T’Plana-Hath had received the warp signature. It momentarily slipped out when he said the words that he had planned in his head for months, the first words he would say to the first human he encountered. So masking his excitement one last time as he rose his hand to perform the ta’al, he voiced out: “Live long and prosper,” and a smile graced his lips.

 

The man before him was so visibly out of his element upon seeing the gesture. Solkar wanted to laugh empathetically when the man lifted his flat palm to part his fingers unsuccessfully. Solkar desired to just lunge forward and touch him, assure him that seeing a human do the ta’al was not what he had come here for.

But the human quickly gave up and did what Solkar had waited for; he extended his hand for him to take. He looked apologetic, maybe even nervous, while waiting for Solkar’s response.

 

It was the gesture that Solkar had seen replicated on film stock again and again, back when they were researching Earth customs. He knew what he was going in for. 

And so, Solkar connected them, his hand fit right into the man’s palm and they bridged their souls at once. The rush washed over Solkar’s katra, frightening him for a millisecond with its power before settling in his very being.

 

There was warmth. Not just physical heat from the man’s palm, which was so warm against his own. Even though the monitoring of Earth had determined that humans average at a temperature of 36.5-37.5 degrees celsius, he could have only imagined a hand as heated as this one was before now.

Secondly, there was an emotional warmth exuding from within that man. An immediate, strong sensation of protective hospitality emanated from him, channeling through Solkar. The man was so full of awe. The only feeling in him that contrasted it was a remnant of fear - that of the unknown. 

 

But through the bond, Solkar felt it diminish into nothing at all, together with the last trace of nervousness left in the man. All that was left was a feeling of desire - possibly one of desiring to get acquainted - and pure, human excitement. 

 

On Solkar’s end there was excitement as well. Excitement both as in thrill and as in arousal. It was every important nerve ending in his hand that was being touched and held just firmly enough all at the same time in order for Solkar to feel it run up his spine and ignite. 

Every one of his hairs stood on end for just a moment before the initial intensity died down. Then he was left with a pleasant, warming sensation that made him wish the man wouldn’t have to let go of him eventually.

 

Through a thankful, relieved voice, the man simply told Solkar: “Thanks.”

 

He knew that the man was thankful already. Solkar didn’t have to say anything at all.

 

Neither of them made a move to let go immediately.

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because of that tumblr post that educated the masses on how first contact went down. I was already into Vulcan/Human relations but Zefkar(Solfram? There are literally only 2 other fics with them I don’t think they have a name yet) sure did get me to write some fic. I read those fics too, the ones by DepressedGoblin and LiterallyThePresident, which inspired me greatly.
> 
> Title is the first innuendo I could think of. Do I usually want a nice, poetic title? Yes. Do I always know what that nice title is gonna be? NOOO. So I settle for a reference to a 2011 boyband song.


End file.
